Magic
by Suzie's Q
Summary: He may not have had magical powers, but Lily's boyfriend had his own kind of magic, and telling him who she really is could mean losing the best thing that's ever happened to her. AU.


I don't own Harry Potter, or anything you see here.

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**Magic**  
Summary: He may not have had magical powers, but Lily's boyfriend had his own kind of magic, and telling him who she really is could mean losing the best thing that's ever happened to her.  
Pairing: J/L  
Word Count: 3,920  
Rating: K+

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Lily had never had much faith in love or in soul mates or in finding someone who could put up with you for the rest of your life. And she had certainly never considered the possibility that she would find such things with a Muggle. It went against every rational argument her brain came up with; she knew that her parents, pureblood to the core, wouldn't approve or agree or allow it for that matter. She knew it would never work. She knew that she would be hiding a part of herself away from a Muggle. That one day, the whole thing would go up in smoke when the can of flobberworms eventually toppled open. And she was a smart girl, and she knew better than to willingly place herself in a situation that would inevitably end in heartbreak. She didn't have much time for heartbreak.

But that all changed. She had read it in books, but until she met James, she had never really truly understood the notion that love made a person disregard their head completely. The only thing that mattered was what your heart was saying, and what you hoped his heart was telling him. She now understood completely how people risked everything, opened themselves up from irremovable heartbreak. Love wasn't rational, or logical. But it was real, and it was passionate, and it was a driving force like nothing she had ever known before.

James set her on fire with one look, but the truth was that he was quite a mellow person in reality. Outside of her head, that was, along with her sordid fantasies that were _anything _but mellow. But he also had a way of calming her down when she was upset or angry, and in a few months – not long enough, Lily thought to herself occasionally – he had become her rock. He had changed her life in several ways.

First of all, she was now lying to her parents. This was something she'd never done before, and she found that keeping a secret this huge – and it was huge, it was monumental, it was the gravitational centre of her entire world – from her parents was no effortless task. If she was slightly dimmer, she wouldn't have managed it.

Secondly, she had transitioned from carefree social vagabond to an out-and-out worrier. She worried about James finding out, she worried about her parents finding out. She worried about James leaving her once he found out. She worried about her friends ditching her, or noticing something was wrong. She became so bad, she started to worry about not only the bigger issues, but the smaller things in her life. Even the most minute details.

Thirdly, James had brought something into her life that she had never had before, and though she wouldn't admit it out loud (partially because she had no one she could safely admit it to), something that had shown her that her pureblood upbringing had been somewhat limited. That something was stories.

It was the thing she loved most about James, she thought, as she made her way to the library where James worked. It was nearly closing time, and there were a few college students still there, poring over large volumes that had seen better days. James was leaning against the counter, his notebook open and splotches of ink scattered on his face and coating his hands.

He looked up and noticed her coming, a wide grin spreading across his face and making Lily's insides dance as she approached the counter. She was left breathless already. How could she ever have been so foolish to think that love wasn't real, that this feeling wasn't worth it? She couldn't understand how she could have ever thought that she was better off alone, when now she felt so consumed with love for this boy; if she loved him anymore it would burn her to embers. This feeling, she couldn't believe she'd nearly missed out on it.

Her heart sank slightly when she remembered her plan for the evening. This could ruin everything. This could send her whole relationship to ashes. She'd never been unhappy, but whatever she had found with James was a new kind of happiness. It was _alive, _it was full of vitality and it coursed through her in ways she had never known, and it wasn't until she had _felt _this happy had she realized that what she'd felt before was not true happiness. What she had had before was fine, but it was dormant and passive. It wasn't the same thing; what she had felt before had simply been the _absence _of unhappiness. That was the thing about happiness, real happiness. You didn't realize you didn't have it until the moment you actually got it. Until the moment that it engulfed you completely.

And was she prepared to forsake all that? Her stomach plummeted as she forced the long-worn thought into her brain: she didn't have a choice. He had to know, and it didn't matter that it could ruin everything. She couldn't keep this from him.

And he was a _start, _at least. She was more keen to tell James about her magic than she was to tell her parents about him. She figured that she had at least some hope of James being accepting, of him coming to terms with this. With her parents, she didn't feel she'd be so lucky.

James leaned across the counter to kiss her. "I'll be five minutes, love," he said, leaving his notebook open as he went to clear the rest of the shelves. Lily knew from experience that he would probably return with two or three books under his arm, and he'd insist that he'd 'bring them back in a few days'. Lily knew better than to believe that; whatever books James encountered and brought home with him would probably never see that library again. Lily smiled again at the thought; how could anyone not love that?

She was left standing against the counter, peering at his notebook upside down – she knew by now that James didn't mind when she looked through it, but that he was normally very private about it – though she couldn't make out anything he'd written down any more than she could when it was the right way up. His handwriting, Lily suspected, was not actually handwriting at all, but some sort of code he had devised that only he could understand. Rather than read, she thought, and despaired over the notion that _anyone _could disapprove of that wonderful boy just because he was a Muggle. She had to swallow a lump in her throat when she thought of her parents' reaction. As much as she didn't want to lose him once she told him about her, she didn't want to give him up once her parents found out. Or rather, she didn't want someone else to give him up for her.

It was only luck that she'd even met him. She didn't come into contact with Muggles much. She had an internship at the Ministry that had started the moment she had left school. She did her shopping in Diagon Alley, occasionally flitting back to a smaller village that had pockets of wizarding communities, or even as far as Hogsmeade when she found she missed her old school. She lived in a block of flats where she knew no one except the old witch that lived two floors above her, and the nearest place she went for her coffee was a cafe run by two girls she had gone to school with. Also witches.

The train station was one of the few places that she encountered Muggles at all. There was nothing spectacular about their meeting aside from the fact that they'd _met. _She'd been sitting in the cafe while she waited for her parents to get there, and he'd been hidden behind a book in the corner for the majority of the morning. Very simply, he'd paid for her coffee (after she'd realized she'd forgotten to bring that wretched muggle money with her) and then thrown her a boyish grin when she thanked him profusely. "Don't mention it," he'd said. "Hey, maybe we can make a habit out of it."

And they _had. _He'd bought her thousands of cups of coffee by now. She smiled at the memory. He'd never commented on the fact that she didn't have a number he could call. She suspected that he suspected that she was lying, but she quickly told him that her parents were very zealous and believed that anything technological (that was the right word, she hoped) was the work of the devil, and therefore banned from their house. He'd laughed (albeit a little nervously) and asked if writing was too nineteenth century to be acceptable.

Lily had jumped on the idea, and spent countless hours trying to decipher his penmanship. He still wrote her letters occasionally, but they were more for the sentimentality than for actual communication. He saw her every day. He never once made any remark about her lack of communication outlets. He just expected her to show up wherever it was – the library, his apartment, a cafe – whenever she said she would, and once she arrived, he smiled as if it was the first time he saw her. Besides, by now, she spent most of her nights at his apartment.

Her heart constricted at the thought that all that would soon be coming to an _end, _and she hastily cleared her throat as she saw him return, cheerfully telling the university students to go panic somewhere else. She smiled softly, taking the hand he'd outstretched.

He nodded towards his notebook. "Anything good in there?"

Lily nodded. "Oh, I'm sure there is. Too bad I can't read a word."

He just chuckled and wrapped an arm around her as they started the short walk to his apartment. Lily steeled her resolve as he told her about the gaggle of thirteen-year-olds that had swarmed around him today, and the grumpy pensioners who'd complained about the lack of 'real books'. ("As if the rest of them were just _imaginary," _he commented with a roll of his eyes. James had the utmost respect for books of all kinds.) She would have to believe that James would understand. She hadn't exactly breached the subject of love (she'd only realized how deeply she felt for him quite recently, about the same time she realized that she would have to tell him, when the thought of losing him and being without him suddenly made everything fall into place) but she was sure that he felt the same way about her. She would have to trust in that.

She told him about her boring and totally false day at the civil service office. It was the closest thing she could think of to the Ministry, and thankfully, neither of them found that interesting enough to discuss it much. He only asked because he was being considerate. Once she had told him briefly about a few things she was sure _someone _did that day, he moved on to what he would make them for dinner as he led her into his apartment. Apart from books, one thing James loved more than anything was cooking. This suited Lily perfectly, since she had never cooked for herself a day in her whole life.

"So I was thinking that I could do some sort of chicken stir-fry type thing, I brought home a really nice recipe book the other day, and it looks _great..." _Lily smirked to herself. He'd read the golden pages if there was nothing else around. That being said, he did always find some really great recipes in those books (he had dozens) so Lily didn't object.

In fact, she just let him jabber away as she sat down on his small, old but very comfortable couch, allowing his flat to swallow her up once again and leave her breathless. James' flat was her favourite place in the whole world. It was small, naturally enough, but it felt more like home to Lily than anything other house or building ever had done.

The first time she had ever been in his flat, she had thought to herself that it was just like a library, except that it smelled just like James did, as well as smelling like coffee. It was less neat than a library, but not because he was a messy person. In a library, books were stacked on shelves. In James' apartment, books were everywhere.

Books piled up beside the tv and on the coffee tables, on the windowsills. There was always a selection of books on the kitchen counters, usually recipe books or something light-hearted that he could read while cooking. There were books ranging from Tolstoy to TV Guides strewn on the couch and across the floor, stuffed into units where DVD players were supposed to go. On top of the TV was a book entitled "The Top 1000 Movies of All Time". There was a tottering pile of books in the bathroom, right beside the toilet. He had books spilling out of cupboards and his medicine cabinet, books thrown in drawers right alongside the cutlery. He had books in the drawers he kept his clothes. There were _always _books under the couch. He had stacks and stacks of books in the hall, and he had tons of shelves, all filled to breaking point. Lily wondered how the shelves didn't collapse. He had a large pile of books at the bottom of his wardrobe.

What Lily loved most about the books was how well-loved they all were. James had no time for keeping books pristine or immaculate. He had bent spines to the point of no return. All his books were dog-eared and bent, and a lot of them were yellowing with age. It was what made everything about them and the flat so beautiful.

Lily slipped out of her shoes and picked up the nearest one, just to see what it was, until James came back with two cups of coffee.

"You should read that one," he said immediately. "It's about this lawyer who realizes that his best friend is behind all these cases of fraud and making a _ton _of money, but just as he's about to turn him in, his wife gets really sick and they can't afford to pay for all the medical bills, so his friend offers to make him a partner. I haven't finished it yet."

"Well, why do I need to read it when you'll just tell me what happens anyway?" Lily said fondly, gladly accepting the cup of coffee. Lily looked around the apartment, scanning the room for a book they could read. James read to her, and Lily listened with her eyes closed, curled up in James' bed, until she fell fast asleep. She suspected that he read ahead long after she'd drifted off, but he always picked up the last place she remembered, so Lily didn't mind.

Lily had grown to rely on the habit of it. She loved when James stopped to ask her what she thought of a certain plot twist, or a certain character, or what she thought was going to happen. She adored when James' voice would register shock and intrigue as they encountered a new twist in the storyline together. Having James read to her was one thing in her life she couldn't imagine living without.

He always knew how to pick a story she'd love. He talked to her about the books they read together. They had _animated _discussions about important issues in books that lasted well into the early hours of the morning. He brought her home books from the library, and was never less than a hundred percent confident that she'd love it.

One of the most important things James had done since he'd been in her life was brought stories into it. He introduced her to all these amazing stories that Muggles had inside of them. He showed her the most beautiful worlds that Muggles had created. He had _opened _her eyes and proved to her that there was _nothing _inferior about Muggles. They had the most beautiful words in their hearts, and Lily's pureblood education had left it out completely. She had never before felt such a warmth in her heart at something that another person had written down.

James had made her think that Muggles were in fact even _more _important than wizards, because they could make something touching and wonderful out of the ordinary world they lived in. That was what James did. He made her life wonderful purely out of the ordinary aspects of it. She felt as deeply as she did for him because he was a Muggle, because it was simple and ordinary and yet he still made it beautiful. He had such wonderful words practically pouring out of him.

She didn't understand how her parents could have such little time for Muggles, how they could _hate _Muggles, when Muggles created such beautiful things that made her feel so much, that brought her closer to the person she loved most in the entire world.

In that moment, as James fell silent and looked over at her, simply to observe her, she realized that James had shown her which world was the truly amazing one. She couldn't give up the world that she had grown up in, the world she belonged in, because it was a part of her and she needed it. But this Muggle world; James had shown her all the wonders of it, and as long as he was a part of that world, it was her world too, and she desperately needed to belong to it. She needed to stay with him, and she didn't care which world it was in.

He started to ask her something, but she was speaking before he'd half finished. "I love you."

He paused, and then the corner of his mouth quirked up. He opened his mouth to speak again, and though Lily's heart soared at the idea that he was telling her the same, she had to cut across him once again.

"Listen, before you say anything else. There's something you need to know." She sat up a bit. She needed him to know. She had chosen him, but he needed to know the real her before he could choose her too. She swallowed, and prayed that this wouldn't be the last time in this apartment. "I – I have really loved every last moment I've spent with you," she told him, staring at her knees. "And I don't know what I'd do without you. I can't even imagine my life without you in it."

"Lily..." he started. She held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm not... exactly ordinary," she told him a quiet voice.

He snorted. "Yeah. I've noticed."

She sighed, picking up a book from the coffee table and placing it on her lap as she drew her wand from her bag. "_Engorgio," _she muttered, watching as the book swelled with alarming pace.

James jolted and scrambled back in the seat. The coffee mug went flying, but the moment it crashed against the floor, Lily pointed her wand at it and the shards sealed themselves back together again. With another flick, she vanished the coffee that had spilled.

"This is not... ordinary," James said, his eyes wide as Galleons.

Lily nodded, chewing on her lip. "Please don't freak out. I'm – I'm still _me. _I just ... happen to..."

"Have magic powers," James supplied for her, looking as though he was ready to slap himself for even suggesting it. He didn't want to believe it.

She nodded, staring into her lap. "I don't work in Civil Services. I work in the Ministry of Magic, and my whole family are witches and wizards, and _telling you this _will get me in so much trouble, it's illegal..."

"So why are you telling me?" he rasped. His eyes were now transfixed on her.

She paused, staring back at him until her face burned. "Because I love you," she said simply. "And I don't want to have to break up with you, and I can't keep this from you any longer. You're too big a part of my life to keep this hidden. I don't want this to end."

James cleared his throat, and for the first time in their whole relationship, the silence between them felt uncomfortable. "This isn't a very elaborate joke, is it?"

She shook her head. "You read a lot. It happens all the time in books, doesn't it?"

"W-well, yeah," he spluttered. "In _books, _Lily. We're not in _Billy Rutter_ here."

"Well, we sort of are," Lily mumbled, squirming with discomfort. "Please believe me."

James threw his hands up. "My book is now three times the size it was and the cup is magically fixed. Do I need more proof?"

"I can give you more proof," she pointed out. "If you need it."

He shook his head, and Lily waited in the silence while he thought to himself. She could only hope that he was wrapping his head around this successfully.

"My girlfriend's a witch," he announced eventually. She nodded mutely. "She does magic spells, with her magic wand."

"She also really doesn't want to break up with her boyfriend," she added. "If that helps."

James quirked an eyebrow. "Can you make books appear out of thin air?"

Lily laughed, and felt her whole body go slack with relief. "I don't know," she told him, breathing out deeply. "I've never tried."

"We'll have to try sometime," he said, winking as he stood up. He held out his hand. "You know, we've all got our baggage. There's me with my parents split up and my ... er... obsession," he said, gesturing around him vaguely. "And you with your magic tricks."

"They're not magic tricks," she retorted, as he pulled her to her feet and kissed her forehead.

"Right. Okay. Allow me to make light of the situation," he said, still looking like he believed he was dreaming. "It's a weird one."

"It is," Lily mumbled, swallowing. "But it doesn't change anything, and it _is _really real, and it's not magic tricks..."

James had a thousand questions that night. They stayed up later than they ever had before, and she told him everything, answered every question he had. He deserved that much. He was a good listener, and everything seemed to fit together for him, much to Lily's relief.

"You're like something straight out of my favourite book," he said fondly, staring at her in wonder, after she'd changed his hair to blond and back again, turned a pillow into a teapot and back again, and conjured chairs three times.

Lily grinned at him sheepishly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Except I love you way more," he muttered, kissing her nose. Her heart swelled so much, she thought she was about to faint.

Lily needn't have worried so much. Though still very much alarmed, James was intrigued, he was interested. And what was more, he didn't feel any differently about her. No matter how many books she read, she would never find a passage accurate enough to describe the feeling she got when James told her he loved her and kissed her goodnight, telling her in a teasing voice, "After all, this just makes you far more interesting. You were always a bit boring before."

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